


a lifetime without you

by starkholic (celestialassassin)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Brief Vomiting, Brief mention of abortion, Cold War, M/M, Mentions of War, Mild Sexual Content, Off Screen Death, Pregnancy, Trans Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialassassin/pseuds/starkholic
Summary: Prompt quote: "About the baby...it's yours."After WWII the world celebrated and the next generation came in a mass wave called the baby boomers. Alfred and Ivan have been in a hidden relationship for most of the 20th century. An unexpected pregnancy during tense political climates throws Alfred for a loop.





	a lifetime without you

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was not supposed to be as serious as it turned out. I got a few requests for this prompt and this was under the angst prompts, so this is def angst. This is with my headcanon in mind that nations can have regular children. If they have them, they won't be a personification or anything like that, they'll be a regular mortal human. Even if they sleep with other nations and conceive with them the baby born from that will still be human not a nation.
> 
> Historical and pregnancy inaccuracies like skjdnsjd idk what tf I'm talking about. I'm getting both information stuff from google and Mad Men so lmao please excuse any inaccuracies.
> 
> Also Alfred is trans.

Mass celebrations happened at the end of World War II. The world was no longer on the brink of self-destruction but now transitioned into an age of mutually assured destruction. Whatever ally ship was held between the United States and Soviet Union had fizzled out once the Axis Powers had been defeated and divided.

Alfred and Ivan were content with the ally ship. It gave them the excuse to be in close quarters with one another without arousing any suspicion. Late nights ‘strategizing’ with constant lunches and dinners that often ran late. There was a war happening but to Alfred and Ivan it was merely background noise.

  
They would start arguing towards the end of an Allies meeting resulting in the meeting ending early and the rest of the nations leaving them all alone in the conference room to hash it out.

As soon as they heard the click of the door sound throughout the room Ivan relaxed the gloved hand that squeezed Alfred's throat. Their eyes full of feigned annoyance and rage had softened into blissful admiration and need. Alfred was the first to press their lips together in a desperate and heated kiss. 

Ivan lifts Alfred and hoists him onto the massive mahogany conference table, Alfred wraps his legs around Ivan's waist pulling him closer. They'll have to be careful this time, last time they broke the table and had to come up with some excuses and bruises to match. Alfred let out an amused huff of air from his nostrils at the memory.

This would be the last time they would see each other for a while. With the war over, and Germany divided, their responsibilities almost tripled with having to rebuild a war-torn Europe. They clung to each other, trying to memorize how the other felt. They couldn't stay long after they finished, their bosses would wonder and the possibility of them finding them together like this, kept them from lingering.

Alfred left first, to his surprise finding Arthur and Francis having a small chat. Both of their eyes shifted over towards the disheveled looking American. Francis gave Alfred a quick wink, brushing Arthur on the shoulder and left the lobby.

Arthur's eyes followed Alfred, noticing his hair had a few strands pointing in all different directions and the bruises on his throat that was just barely covered by his collar. There was calculating and judging looking in his emerald eyes with each step Alfred took.

"I would be careful if I were you." He warned. The words were without malice but still reminded Alfred of when Arthur lightly chastised him for things when he was little.

"I'm not afraid of him, he's all talk."

Arthur's expression didn't change taking a casual sip of his tea.

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." Alfred didn't indicate any change in his stance now that he know Arthur knew.

"See ya at the next meeting."

\---

A few weeks pass and Alfred is weighed down with the stress of the duties of what it took to rebuild after a massive war. It wasn’t his first massive war, but something had changed since the first one took place. He had changed and so had his nation.

Exhaustion and fatigue seeped down into his very core. He was always running off somewhere, always had a meeting to attend to. It was starting to get to him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until a sudden wave of nausea crept up on him in the middle of a meeting between those who occupied West Germany.

Alfred stood up abruptly and excused himself rushing off as he felt the bile rise in the back of his throat. He almost doesn't make it to the bathroom and rushes in and empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

A line of drool strung down from his lips as he gasped for breath. The slow realization happened and hit him harder than that German tank did in '44. Shit.

This was the worst time for this. This wasn't his first rodeo he knew exactly what was going on with his body. However, this was his first time with another nation. He didn't know what to expect and would be stupid to ask anyone and let them know that he was vulnerable at a time where he was considered a world superpower.

Would this baby represent a state of his? How would that even work since it was half Ivan's and therefore half of the Soviet Union.

In the middle of his thought process came a knock on the door. His head shot up and he stood up making his way over to the sink and quickly rinsing out his mouth. The knock came again.

"Alfred? Are you alright?" a familiar voice came from the other side of the thick door.

"Yeah." although not sounding too sure.

His head couldn't stop from spinning about this happening at the worst time, and with the worst person he could think of. Political tensions were high.

The Soviet Union and the United States were at the brink of war. How would they even go about having this child, let alone rising it? They were far too busy and supposed enemies. The baby would be damned from its birth if Alfred and Ivan had to decided to claim it. He couldn’t put it through that. 

Ivan could never know, not that he ever sees him so he could never tell him. A hand instinctively moves over his abdomen. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what he could do.

He loves Ivan. They will never have a future together, but he longs for a life they could have together if things were different. In another life, this is something that could have been possible. But now, during this arms race, and fighting over West and East Germany, this was something that was never supposed to happen.

"Alfred, let me in." the voice came again, and against his better judgement, Alfred did.

Arthur stood there, his face pinched with a soft worry, quickly let himself in and locking the door behind him the bathroom big enough for them to fit, but small in size so it wouldn’t be comfortable.

Alfred stood there with a serious look on his face, his typical goofy grin wiped clean off.

"What the hell was that? You can't just walk out of a meeting like that in front of everyone who matters I can't belie--"

"Arthur." Alfred's voice was firm and heavy, Arthur raised an eyebrow at the seriousness of the situation.

"I'm pregnant."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, yet still believed his words. Not even Alfred is stupid enough to joke about something like this. The silence didn't last long.

"Does he know?"

"I just found out." Alfred knew all the signs at this point, he didn't need a doctor to tell him what he already knew. It was dangerous to let anyone know. The less people knew the better. Even telling Arthur was a gamble.

"What do you plan to do about it?" Arthur pulled out a cigarette and offered it to Alfred. Alfred shook his head and instead Arthur put it in his own lips and lit it. Smoke filled the room, and smell gave Alfred some comfort.

"I don't know." he shrugged.

"Whatever you decide, do it quick and be discreet." Arthur took a drag and blew it out after a few seconds. "You've been away too long. Stiffen that upper lip and come back to the meeting." Arthur clapped Alfred on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze before exiting.

Alfred was left with more thoughts about what to do. If he should tell Ivan. What he should tell Ivan.

His hand runs over his semi flat abdomen.

Fuck.

\----

Months pass and it was starting to get harder to hide his growing stomach. He got a new bomber jacket a few sizes too big to keep it baggy and hide what was hiding underneath. Only Arthur knew, and the doctor he was paying very well to keep it under wraps.

He hadn't seen Ivan since their meeting in the conference room. Today they would be meeting in West Germany about how the former country of Prussia was being treated. The Soviet Union would be in attendance as they were the subject of the meeting.

Alfred's chest tightening and his mouth was dry at the thought of seeing Ivan. There's no way he wouldn't notice. Hell, he's pretty sure every nation he's encountered knew, but had the information squared away for a time in the future when they could use it.

From the moment Alfred laid eyes on Ivan blue uniform his heart stopped beating and let out a soft huff of air as he felt a kick from his inner walls.

The more time passed on, the less Alfred knew what to do about it. The recognition in Ivan's face when their eyes met just made everything that much more real.

Alfred averted his gaze and swallowed the lump in his throat and took his seat next to his boss right across from Ivan. Prussia seated next to him looking defeated and Ludwig seated between Alfred and Arthur with a fake confidence.

Ivan trying to catch his eye the entire meeting, but Alfred couldn't look at him just yet without feeling an immense amount of guilt. To tell him or not. The next time they were scheduled to see each other was in another few months, right around the expected due date. It would be risky.

The meeting ended and they all shook hands on the agreed upon regulations and standards. Really, it was all formality none of them planned on changing anything.

When Alfred and Ivan clasped hands there was a note left between Alfred's fingers written in Ivan's handwriting. Ivan gave him a small genuine smile. Alfred smiled back although more nervous than anything.

They left and Alfred excused himself. This goddamn thing made him want to pee every 5 seconds. He closed the door and locked it behind him and opened the note.

_'Meet at the apartment'_

Ah, yes, the apartment. The apartment they shared with one another in Manhattan. It was empty for most of the year but discreet so that they could meet without anyone knowing what they were up to. Even hotels were too risky these days.

Alfred mingled a bit more with the previous Allied powers and then headed out to meet Ivan at the apartment. His stomach was in knots, his hands shaky.

When he got there, he hoped Ivan wouldn't already be there, but he was. The man was sitting on the couch with paperwork he had been given earlier, cross legged, hat and jacket removed for extra comfort.

Alfred felt like a stranger walking the lion's den with a secret hidden from someone he cared for. Ivan smiled when he spotted him and got up to greet him as Alfred shut the door behind him. Alfred's center of gravity was completely off since he entered the 2nd trimester, walking normally was a bit of a struggle for him and something he hoped no one else noticed.

  
Ivan slid his hands around Alfred's hips and pulled him into a kiss. Alfred melted into it, it's been so long, and he's been so needy he practically moaned into Ivan's lips.

He missed him so much. He missed being this close to him. His scent, how his body never seemed to feel warm, his scars that told a story of survival.

"You shouldn't eat so late, podsolnuk. Although, I suppose there is more of you to hold." he whispered against the crane of Alfred's neck. Alfred shuddered at the breath against his throat. He wanted Ivan so badly.

The bubbling anxiety seeped through his entire body the more Ivan explored his body. Alfred moved his hands to Ivan's and stopped them in their place. Ivan lilted his head in confusion.

"I can't. I just stopped by."

"What is wrong? You are not yourself. You are quiet." Ivan’s voice laced with a soft concern, his fingers moving under Alfred's chin to have the man look at him. He sees guilt and like he has something to say.

"Nah. Just tired. I really have to go." Alfred slides out of Ivan's hold, refuses to look back to see Ivan's hand stretched out with a look of hurt so blatantly on his face.

He hates his cowardice. He's supposed to be brave. The fucking hero, but he can't even tell the man he loves something so important that pertains to him.

\---

1948

Alfred had taken bullets to muscle and shrapnel that ripped into flesh. He's had his organs ruptured, bones shattered, and limbs cut off. None of that compared to the pain that labor brought. He hadn't told anyone. It had been a few days before he was scheduled to have another meeting with the previous Axis and Allied powers. It wasn't ideal but at least it was before and not during the meeting.

He didn't tell Ivan. He couldn't bring himself to do it. It was too risky. It would make Ivan too vulnerable, an added weakness in a time where war could break out at any moment and could be used against him. It could be used against them both.

During the last stretch of his labor he could barely process anything from the pain and the drugs. A nice Twilight Sleep minus the sleep. Because of his body which was constantly healing and trying to push out any toxins or foreign substances the morphine and scopolamine didn't do much for him. It blocked out about 45% of the pain but the rest of it. Well, he couldn't even remember his own name. And he was alone. No support whatsoever. Just like always.  


+++  


Alfred was so exhausted from the 2 day labor he had passed out almost immediately after the baby was born. He woke up the sound of a soft lullaby in a language he could barely understand in this disorientated state.

'Spi, mladenets moy prekrasnyy, Bayushki-bayu--'

Alfred sat up at the song and familiar voice. He's heard that velvety voice sing to him like that before, but he can't quite translate the words in his head; it was too exhausting.

His eyes blinked open as he sat up his stomach deflated. It felt as if something was missing. It always felt like this afterwards. He was always alone, but not this time. Spotting a figure in the corner of the room with his legs crossed and a bundle in his arms as his face held a soft fondness, something he hadn't seen before almost paternal.

"You're awake." he hadn't noticed the singing had stopped.

"Wish I wasn't." The baby was still here. Alfred didn't know whether to be furious or relieved.

"How are you feeling?"

"What are you doing here?" Alfred averted his gaze from the bundle in Ivan's arms. He knew once he saw that baby it'll be all over for him. It was him and Ivan in one human being. One mortal human being.

"You think so little of me. You don't think I have known? I have been giving you space, but you did not think I would be here for you?" Ivan's voice had some hurt in it, but nothing to indicate he was angry.

"I didn't want to tell you. I wouldn't even be involved if I didn't have to be." Alfred let out a forced chuckle.

"I understand. I just.... I wanted to see him before he was sent off." Ivan's voice carried a heavy sadness. It was understandable. They all wanted this for themselves.

"We're not allowed any semblance of a normal life."

"Da, I know...but we can pretend for just a moment." For once, it's Ivan who is the idealistic optimist. The one who clung to hope and believing in the goodness in humanity and the world instead of Alfred.

Ivan stood up and brought the babe to Alfred, Alfred took the bundle into his arms and brought it close to his chest.

"About the baby...it's yours."

Ivan cracked a smile as he wrapped an arm around Alfred.

"I would still be here even if he wasn't."

"He?"

"Yes. I call him Alexei."

Alfred chuckled, "You can't give him a Russian name right now. Plus, his new family will name him, give him a fresh start so he's not tied down by us."

Ivan nodded in agreement. "He will live a normal life. He will not be cursed."

Alfred leaned against Ivan as he watched the baby in his arms sleep. He took in all his features. It would be the last time he would see him.

\----

1971

The Vietnam War was in full swing and Selective Service has decided to draft men who were born between 1944 and 1950. Alfred was just as busy as he was during the last war, and the war before that, and the war before that. It seemed there was always another war to fight, another country to save with democracy.

Ivan was still the enemy. The Soviet Union was the enemy. And Alfred and the United States were enemies to the Soviet Union. This war was messy and complicated. The last war alongside a reluctant Im Yong Soo was a disaster. Stalemate leaving the bitter and metallic taste of blood in his mouth from the soldiers they had thrown into it in the name of stopping communism. It was a pointless fight with too many lives lost to make any kind of statement. 

So how was Vietnam any different? Alfred's bones ached and his head constantly hurt. Meeting with Ivan has become more and more difficult over the years. He barely sees him. Things were becoming dangerous and it wasn't worth it. History will settle someday. And they could be together. But not now.

They had sent him down to Vietnam and work along with the new soldiers that had arrived. Everything was wet and hot, constantly sweating as they lived among the dense trees and rivers. It was a beautiful country. Alfred hated to see the scars that war left behind.

He wished he was here under different circumstances. Sitting in the endless fields eating slices of mangos looking up at the vast sky the stars. He’d turn to his side and see a pair of gorgeous and familiar violet eyes.

_Ivan._

His daydream was erased by the realities and carnage of war. The sound of muffled bullets that made it past the sunset and resounded throughout the thick jungle.

They were expecting a new company of fresh wide eye soldiers. Soldiers he was in charge of training and making sure they were ready to die for their country whether they were willing or not. Alfred waited in his tent until his Lieutenant popped his head in and informed him of their new boys.

The draft was not something he was fond of. Snatching up young men and sending them to fight without their consent was something that made Alfred sick. If someone wanted to die for war they could, but it shouldn't be forced upon them, especially in a war like this. He was afraid of another stalemate, another war where both sides lost too much for anything worthwhile.

Alfred got up dog tags rattling with each step as he caught a glimpse the group of 80 soldiers lined up waiting for orders and orientation.

They look younger and younger with each war and the soft spot inside Alfred only breaks more with each baby face he sees.

The oldest seems 22, if that, and the younger ones are 18. Some of them look proud and ready. Most of them looked terrified. No doubt brought here against their will to fuel a cause that didn't directly involve them. 

There's nothing special about this group. Just another group of boys he has to send off to die. Almost nothing special.

His blood ran cold when he spotted it. He saw a pair of familiar eyes. Violet eyes. He couldn't breathe. The sandy blond hair that peaked through his army issued green hat.

"What's your name, soldier?" he tried not to let his voice crack.

"Alex Brooks, sir!" the boy saluted, and stiffened. Brooks. He supposed that's the family he ended up with.

Alfred wanted to throw up. Alex. The name was too similar to the name Ivan suggested almost 21 years ago.

_‘I call him Alexei.’_

Fuck, no. He would be this age right about now. Those eyes are unmistakably his father's. Eyes he hasn't seen in almost 2 years, but he could recognize them anywhere.

Alfred was silent for a moment and the soldiers looked at him expectantly.

"At ease, Brooks."

Brooks put his arm down.

"The rest of you, go pack your shit up and get settled!" He shouted and got a resounding 'Yes, sir!' from the group.

He had the sudden urge to write to Ivan. Alfred didn't want to know where their child ended up when he gave him away, but Ivan was adamant about keeping tabs. He probably knew and might have pulled some strings to get him into Alfred's company knowing that once Alfred realized who he was, he would keep him safe.

He couldn't keep his eyes off the young boy. Seems like that even during this dark situation in history the young man is bouncing around and making quick friends with the soldiers in his company. That bright grin that lit up the entire camp, just like him. He could see the way that he moves and the way that he speaks and his mannerism. It was like seeing himself and Ivan in this whole other person.

But he was also his own person. He had lived a whole life Alfred couldn't even dream of and it added a flair to his personality. He was a better person than him. A better person than Ivan. This young man could make something with his life after the war. He could live the life that he and Ivan could never hope to have.

This boy is his son. His and Ivan's flesh and blood. The little bundle that Ivan sang to in his native tongue hoping to instill some semblance of his culture into him. He remembers how soft his head was and the new baby smell that would perpetually be ingrained into his brain.

And here he was. Twenty-one years later in an army green uniform a rifle that looked so out of place. He would have thought the family they sent him to live with would have prioritized education and he would have been in college and been able to avoid the draft. Or maybe there was a patriotism he inherited from him that made him volunteer. Whatever it was, he was here, ready to throw his life away for to spread democracy under the guise of freedom.

War was always the same. And now he's got a little boy to look after. Damn Ivan. It wasn't just his boy but the boys of thousands of families. And now he was responsible for their lives.

But he couldn't afford to think about that now.

He had a war to win.

2019

The world had changed in way Ivan and Alfred never expected. Things between them were better, no secret meetings, no 10-minute fucks where all they wanted to do is stay and hold each other but couldn't.

They had a house together. They couldn't live together, their duties required them to live in their own respective countries, but they could spend time together there without fear.

Alfred would wake up in the morning and see Ivan's sleeping face. They would kiss each other good morning and complain about morning breath. They'd have breakfast together and go on a walk for groceries or the park or wherever the day took them.

Once every six months they would have breakfast at a coffee shop. The shop used to be owned by an older gentleman, but he retired and now it was run by his granddaughter.

The man is there every day with a cup of tea and that day's newspaper finishing the crossword and cutting out the cartoons.

Alfred and Ivan would grab a booth in the back and ordered some coffee with some of the best pie they've ever had. They would have idle chats but would always watch the old man in the corner of their eyes. The old man with kind violet eyes and white hair that was once blond with youth.

They would finish their coffee and pie and the man would bid them farewell. Alfred and Ivan were always prepared for the day when they would come to the shop and he would no longer be there. That was the burden of being nations. It was the curse of immortality. They walk back to their shared home together and dinner was oddly silent on the days they visited the coffee shop.

A few years later they would visit his grave every year on his birthday. They would leave him a bundle of sunflowers.

"I hope he was happy." Alfred whispered as he leaned against Ivan. That's all Alfred wanted for him. Vietnam came and went, he found a wife, had a few children and they had a few children. The typical circle of life continues and the man had lived a full life with people who loved and cared for him.

Ivan's lips curved into a sad smile.

"Da, I think he was."


End file.
